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Tell me your all time favorite lines from your favorite poems

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I'm not sure where this goes, so I sincerely apologize if this is in the wrong area. I have recently begun to really enjoy poetry quite a bit. I would like someone to list one or two of their all time favorite lines of poetry, to give me more reading material. I suppose that I will share mine as well, so far anyway.

O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you;
As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,
Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.

I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, "Go back to bed!"
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, "I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown."
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With "Hah-Hah-Hahs" and "Hee-Hee-Hees."
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT."
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.

Thank you, Stooge. Just the poem. Why do you always assume something is personal? I literally have no idea who you are. I just think there's already a thread for entire poems, I like this thread because it's about really narrowing it down.

You pointed out my mistake so I explained it and offered One Line from a poem and you respond by ambiguously stating that it is 'so cheap uhg', why shouldn't I assume that is a personal statement about me?

As far as not knowing who I am, literally, you contradicted yourself in the statement just before that by accusing me of always assuming things are personal. Which is it? You either don't know who I am or you know who I am and have opinions about me.

I see nothing wrong with me asking you to clarify yourself after throwing the word cheap out there, ultimately though, it is none of my business what you think of me and I am fine with that.

I know nothing about your personal life or self, unless you think that your entire existence is made up of the fact that I am aware that any time I express any displeasure or disagreement with something you post you assume I have a problem with "you," which I am sure isn't the case. I thought your post was cheap, and I'm a little tired of every thread becoming derailed with the fact that I "dislike" someone because I've historically been "hostile." I'm allowed to disagree, don't bog me down, man.

If you say bitchy things you are going to come off like a bitch. Pretty simple math there.

It has nothing to do with any "history" you think you have. I wasn't around when you earned that history, I know you only as a fabled banned member that made tenthousand alt accounts during the time I was becoming a regular here, and now as the way you are here since you have been back for real.

You didn't like the poem, then a plain 'I don't like that poem' would suffice. saying something is "cheap" is going to get a response asking what your problem is.

If you say bitchy things you are going to come off like a bitch. Pretty simple math there.

It has nothing to do with any "history" you think you have. I wasn't around when you earned that history, I know you only as a fabled banned member that made tenthousand alt accounts during the time I was becoming a regular here, and now as the way you are here since you have been back for real.

You didn't like the poem, then a plain 'I don't like that poem' would suffice. saying something is "cheap" is going to get a response asking what your problem is.

I have no problem with the poem, I just thought it was a cop out to post the entire thing. I like all of The Wasteland and I could certainly copy and paste the entire text of MacBeth but that's not really what this thread is about, though I like the entirety of both.

In being mean the most interesting thing I've learned is that when you look at it objectively some people just love to be personally attacked. THAT was something bitchy.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.
-Robert Frost

The answer you have to give,
no matter how dark and cold the world around you is:
"Maybe I'm a king."
- My favorite poem, A Story That Could Be True, commonly attributed to William Stafford but there's a lot of controversy about whose it really is.

In being mean the most interesting thing I've learned is that when you look at it objectively some people just love to be personally attacked. THAT was something bitchy.

Way to justify and displace blame off yourself there for anyway your own actions might affect others.

In always standing up for myself the most interesting thing I have learned is who is worthy of my concern.

A lot of times you stand up for yourself when it isn't even warranted. In this case you responded too quickly, defensively over something that you didn't take the time to read effectively. You've done this plenty of times and have derailed perfectly good threads. Sometimes you just have to let shit go. I haven't said much before because I like you and I appreciate your participation here Amber but seriously. Let that shit go. Six wasn't attacking you. (Yes, I just defended Six.)

Uuuhhh, I'm going with pepper on this one. Six's comment was unnecessary, considering pepper had already fixed her mistake, and quite targeted at pepper, herself. I mean, "cheap"? That's not attacking the comment, that's attacking the... "tact," I guess, of the person who posted it. It was pretty much asking for confrontation.

By the way, people don't want to be personally attacked, Six, but they're definitely wary about the possibility of it. No one wants to be a sucker by being mocked and not responding in some way, let alone not being aware of it.

If this were baseball and some guy tied a string to the ball and one end to a bat I don't care if he's the Pope or Elvis or my grandma, that's cheap and it's not the game. U feel me?

Oookay, in that case, the objective truth is that the "cheap" comment was unnecessary, petty, and dumb, because it didn't take into account that the mistake it was responding to had already been corrected. If that was intentional, then it was confrontational, or "bitchy" some would rather say. Gee, if that comment was made by, say, a person with certain patterns of behavior that the comment would reflect, and thereby my critique of which would reflect on that person, I certainly hope they don't think I'm somehow attacking them.

I'm not trying to be confrontational, but damn, c'mon, you have to be able to see how your comment comes off. This is coming from someone pepper's had a long, thorough argument with about his own alleged insensitivity.

I love poetry. There is something kind of amazing about how someone can capture and so perfectly describe raw human emotion with nothing more than a few words. In my opinion it is one of the purest, most timeless, most wonderful forms of art.

Light many lamps and gather round his bed.
Lend him your eyes, warm blood, and will to live.
Speak to him; rouse him; you may save him yet.
He’s young; he hated War; how should he die
When cruel old campaigners win safe through?

But death replied: ‘I choose him.’ So he went,
And there was silence in the summer night;
Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep.
Then, far away, the thudding of the guns.

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